You Found Me
by Racquet
Summary: He'd known who it was before the figure even turned, despite the darkness of the frigid Detroit winter. Oneshot. Rated T for swearing.


**A/N: **First off, I sincerely apologize to anyone who has been waiting for the next chapter of Aberration. I have always hated when authors left stories hanging and it has not been updated in almost 2 years, which is completely unacceptable. For anyone who wants to give me another chance, I am working on the next chapter. This is a oneshot just to get me writing again.

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><p><em>I found God<em>

_On the corner of First and Amistad_

_All alone_

_Smoking his last cigarette_

_I said,_

"Where you been?"

He'd known who it was before the figure even turned, despite the darkness of the frigid Detroit winter. Hell, he'd known who it was before the bus had turned the corner, he knew before he'd woken up to Neil fucking some groupie in the upper bunk, he knew before they left New York last week. A premonition they call it. He wasn't so sure he believed in that stuff anymore. Premonitions, fate, miracles. He'd kicked them to the curb alongside faith, trust and hope, neatly packaged with the trash from all those years ago.

_Early morning_

_The city breaks_

_I've been calling_

_For years and years and years and years_

"You know, around."

He nodded quickly, the muscles in his jaw working to keep the bile from climbing its way up his throat, unsure whether it was remnants of last night's solo party or the memories that seeing Bobby brought, his defenses shot by the stark soberness. He stared down, unable to meet Bobby's gaze, the tops of his new leather boots splashed with what appeared to be a mixture of the puddle he'd tripped through across the parking lot and obscure pink hued vomit.

"I heard you were doing a show here. Heard a lot about you lately Jack."

The tone was searching. Bobby was putting out his feelers, seeing just how hard he could push and how much information he could get before Jack clammed up. They'd played this game far too many times when he was younger for it to go unnoticed. If this was the way Bobby was going to do this, well, he was playing with fire.

"Oh yeah, like what?"

Pulling his own crumpled pack of cigarettes from the wrinkled jeans he stared hard at Bobby, egging him into the conversation. He'd been waiting for this to play out for far too long to let it get tucked away again, forgotten like yesterday's trash for another year or five. Until Bobby decided to show up again.

"Maybe we should go grab something to eat or something? You look like you could use some food."

He chuckled quietly, eyes again downward as he shook his head. This was so like him, ready to play the good guy.

"I don't think so, I have shit to do before sound check. I..."

"Like what shit Jack? Like a fifth of vodka to steady the shake in your hands?"

He stared down at the twitch and stutter motion of his hands as he fought to keep the Zippo lit long enough for it to stutter itself towards the cigarette that hung between chapped lips. It didn't even seem foreign anymore, wasn't hard to exist in this dead space between death and surviving, so long as he still woke up long enough to stand in front of the mic for a 2 hour stretch, what else mattered. It was so easy to dream for this when he was 15 years old, wearing hand-me-downs and living more as the youngest Mercer than as Jack. Girls, money, fame. How much his priorities had changed over the past few years. Booze, needles, peace. Seeing Bobby shattered that.

_Losing her, the only one who's ever known_

_Who I am,_

_who I'm not,_

_who I wanna be_

"I was thinking more along the lines of some whiskey, but I guess vodka would do. You buying?"

Bobby's eyes narrowed dangerously. He took a steady step toward Jack, closing the dead space between them. Jack knew what he was trying to do, trying to intimidate him, trying to make him back down and cower like he'd done when they were younger. So willing to give in to Bobby, so willing to believe that he was a god, and treating him as such.

"Jesus Christ Jack, what the fuck is wrong with you. What the fuck do you think Ma would say if she saw you like this. What would she think?"

His words were angry and Jack's quivering hand stopped midway from it's journey from his cracked lips to the hem of his dirty black jeans, tip smoldering bright against the foggy hue of the morning air. His eyes moved slowly toward the embers, staring at them, concentrating, as though they would soon sprout lips and give him all the answer's to life's great mysteries. Like why Bobby insisted on pushing against the wall that Jack had put so much effort into building. Just like those three stupid pigs in that old story, Bobby could huff and puff and Jack's house, his safety, just fell uselessly to rubble. Apparently, he'd chosen marshmallows. A smirk crossed his tired face at the mental image and he brought the stub back to his lips. He held the smoke steady in his lungs. Why couldn't he be the wolf?

"You think this is funny Jack? Ma thought you were so much better than this."

"Yeah well, Ma was wrong about a lot of things now wasn't she?"

His voice sounded so much steadier than he felt. Because now he was pushing back. Slowly but surely he was pushing back, and Bobby would either give. Or he wouldn't. And Jack didn't know which idea scared him more.

Bobby shook his head, that slow shake of...what? Incredulousness? Uncertainty? FInally he turned back to Jack, boots shifting noisily over the wet gravel. His arms spread heavily out from his sides, palms up.

"You know what Jack? Fine. This is the way you want it? Fine."

And Jack said nothing, because for him it was. Or it could be.

The older man stayed for a few more minutes, watching him. Taking him in. Waiting for some kind of response, any response. He turned hard when it didn't come, turned and left. No parting words, no apologies, no glance thrown over his shoulder. And it was okay. Or it would be.

Because they'd lost their glue and Jack knew...

_in the end_

_everyone ends up alone_

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><p><strong>AN: **This story is how I feel the brothers would have ended up eventually, had Jack not died in the movie. They rarely saw each other when Evelyn was alive, I think they would have lost a lot of the little connection that they had once she was gone and they had avenged her death.

Anyway, if you could find it in your heart to R&R, it would be much appreciated and you'll receive a coupon for $1 off your next purchase ;)

racquet.


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